"Frank Zappa

"Frank Zappa
Hot Rats [Bizarre, 1969]
Doo-doo to you, Frank--when I want movie music I'll listen to "Wonderwall." C
Chunga's Revenge [Bizarre, 1970]
Like Bobby Sherman, Zappa is a selfish exploiter of popular taste. That Bobby Sherman wants to make money while Zappa wants to make money and emulate Varese is beside the point--if anything, Zappa's aestheticism intensifies his contempt for rock and its audience. Even Hot Rats, his compositional peak, played as much with the moods and usages of Muzak as with those of rock and roll. This is definitely not his peak. Zappa plays a lot of guitar, just as his admirers always hope he will, but the overall effect is more Martin Denny than Varese. Also featured are a number of "dirty" jokes. C+
Sleep Dirt [DiscReet, 1979]
For what it's worth, I thought I'd mention that this collection of outtakes showcases more good music than any Zappa album in years--including its companion piece, Studio Tan, which features a twenty-minute narrative called "Greggery Peccary" that could make me defend El Lay. Maybe the secret of Sleep Dirt is that Frank doesn't talk on it. But that didn't help Orchestral Favorites. B-
Sheik Yerbouti [Zappa, 1979]
If this be social "satire," how come its sole targets are ordinary citizens whose weirdnesses happen to diverge from those of the retentive gent at the control board? Or are we to read his new fixation on buggery as an indication of approval? Makes you wonder whether his primo guitar solo on "Yo' Mama" and those as-unique-as-they-used-to-be rhythms and textures are as arid spiritually as he is. As if there were any question after all these years. C"

F

No one takes him seriously, go away.

unluckily that's false. a lot of people still defend frank hack-a

>Darthmouth at 17
>Extremely well read in music theory and music history
>immense knowledge of music production
>able to destroy or create with flick of his pen

They don't?

And yet, Robert, you produce nothing more than emotional descriptors and explanations of personal preference. That's not what constitutes a review.

That, actually, is exactly what constitutes a review. Do you expect physics?

>>Extremely well read in music theory and music history
>>immense knowledge of music production
[citation needed]

who would win in a street fight? him or scaruffi?

>That, actually, is exactly what constitutes a review
Sure, for people who consider Anthony Fantano a valuable music critic. Not to mention that it's false:
>Unfortunately, it is difficult to show that a value judgment can stand for anything that is even remotely true about music, as opposed to standing for something that is merely a personal whim on the part of the critic, since there is no such thing as an organized body of knowledge called “musical criticism.”

No, of course not! I guess if you want to disagree with a societal rim social hypergenius on music you can.

What are you even talking about?

Do you dislike his critique because of the immense weight each word carries. These hacks like Zappa who remain acclaimed until a spectre of truth comes with a hammer, a real sledgehammer that is, and puts it to their trite.

He's not even funny or a successful troll. He just shitposts.

>Do you dislike his critique because of the immense weight each word carries
Oh, you mean like the immense weight of these words? Not to mention which don't have anything to do with the album itself in most cases.
>Pink Friday [Young Money/Cash Money, 2010]
>Not only are those not her breasts, at least not the ones her biologicals gave her, but her hair isn't really pink or, wink wink, straight. Not only is the quick-lipped hoyden of the year all "Young Money, Cash Money, yeah I'm Universal" with every upper-case except the "I" discretionary, but she's consorting with Natasha Bedingfield and reminding will.i.am how he did it. Half rapping and half singing, half bragging and half kowtowing, brazening a "punt" rhyme here and proclaiming commonality with "girls that never thought they could win" there, she's proud to be shameless, with the hooks to back it up. She knows well the presumably stolen words of her male collaborator-counterpart Drake: "Everybody dies but not everybody lives." And damn right she calls this living. A
Yeah and "hacks" like Zappa were taken seriously and had their works conducted by the likes of Pierre Boulez. I'm sure they just didn't know any better.

Look, here's another barrage of immensely powerful words:
>Rated R [Def Jam, 2009]
>Concocting a persona of interest out of one dynamite musical trick and a bad patch I wouldn't wish on Lindsay Lohan ("Hard," "Rude Boy"). **

I don't always agree with Christgau, but he's concise and amusing. Maybe I'm a sucker for dumb wordplay and cheeky references.

Plus he was a pretty important advocate of the 70s NYC punk scene, a well-known critic's praise goes a long way, whether we like it or not. B-

Yes, you hate him because he tore down your idol. Frank Zappa, why do you hate the common man so much? And where is your soul? These questions are really worth asking. It's a shame someone who has already submitted to perceived hierarchies in music like "art conductors" will rarely come to wonder them.

Also worth noting, these conductions were only completed after – ahem – major payments from Zappa.

>Pierro Scruffy, now THAT is a critic!

>Extremely well read in music theory and music history

LOLno. He's said that he doesn't write a lot about jazz because he doesn't know enough about music theory to comment intelligently on it.

An excuse. Who wants to write about jazz?

>Yes, you hate him because he tore down your idol
What did he tear down? His reviews are again nothing more than emotional descriptors and explanations of personal preference. How was he taken seriously by the man who's conducted the works of Bach, Mozart, Berlioz, Bach, Beethoven and Webern if he was so bad and torn apart by Christgau? You're not making any sense and you know that.

Wow, it's almost as if you have to pay an orchestra to even show up to rehearsals and eventually go on tour with you. Fascinating, isn't it?

Ah! The confidence trickster is unmasked at last. Frank Zappa must be good because he's associated with someone who chooses to associate with (Dun-dun-duhn) Beethoven. Truly the reasoning of a smart person.

Not when you're actually worth something in art music, no. A fringe tryhard at best.

Can you offer anything other than in your mind clever one-ups and condescending shitposting rampages? This board is dead as a platform for music discussion of any kind, so you're not aggravating anyone with this.

>Tryhard
I knew not to take you seriously, but thanks for finally confirming it.

When he can no longer argue, he attacks.

Everyone in the New York punk scene in the 70s-80s wanted to kill him at some point.

Crosby, Stills, and Nash [Atlantic, 1969]

Rated by request, I've written elsewhere that this album is perfect but that is not necessarily a compliment. Only David Crosby's vocal on "Long Time Gone" saves it from a special castrati award. Pray for Neil Young. B+

As if we are to see a point against him from this. As if his personal perfect were to stand like a king? The modern man does enjoy fitting himself as the judge of all doesn't he?

>admits that he didn't like the album and only rated it a B plus from peer pressure

Those are not ad hominem attacks, sorry. Try attacking anything I've said with actual arguments. I don't think you can do it, because you didn't do it. But, oh boy, isn't it fun to shitpost and shitpost?

On Avery Island [Merge, 1996] :(

In The Aeroplane Over The Sea [Merge, 1998] :(

NMH are objectively shit though.

Zappa makes music for people who hate themselves and also hate music.
F-

Seems like it would be a review for Trout Mask Replica. Eh, it's similar either way.

We're Only in It for the Money [Rykodisc, 1995]

Whatever his ultimate standing as social critic or present-day composer who refuses to die, Zappa was everything he claimed to be on this 19-cut, 40-minute sendup of the Summer of Love. No, it wasn't like this; most of the naive teens who lost-and-found themselves in the Haight were sweeter and smarter than the "phony hippies" he lacerates with such hopeless contempt. But that doesn't mean his cruelty isn't good for laughs. And not only is every wee tune--motive, as composers say--as well-crafted as a Coke commercial, they all mesh together into one of those musical wholes you've read about. With bohemia permanent and changed utterly, this early attack on its massification hasn't so much dated as found its context. Cheap sarcasm is forever. A

Calm down, son. I only just woke up and I am sitting here with a bowl of count chocula. Thinking about lowering scores – it was Zappa you liked, right?

This long-winded whimper makes for a sad forgery. Whether it's what he's saying, or how he's saying it, he never reaches anything higher than a high school essay. You do know I went to Darthmouth to achieve my prose?

Fantastic Fedora [Capricorn, 1974]

Sub-average white band. C-

>Thinking about lowering scores – it was Zappa you liked, right?
Yes, do it Robert.

Going For The One [Atlantic, 1977]

The title cut may be their best ever, challenging a formula that even apologists are apologizing for by now with cutting hard rock guitar and lyrics where Jon Anderson casts aspersions on his own "cosmic mind". But even there, you wish you could erase Rick Wakeman and elsewhere Steve Howe has almost as little to say. C+

Brothers in Arms [Warner Bros., 1985]

"Money For Nothing" is a catchy sumbitch, there's no getting around it, and side one moves with a simple generosity not often associated with this studio guitarist's ego trip. We know Mark Knopfler's working-class antihero is a thicky because he talks like Randy Newman and uses the same word for homosexuals that old bluesmen use, a word that he's somehow managed to sneak on the air with no static from the PMRC. But it's too late for the old bluesboy to suck us in with his ruminations on the wantonness of women and the futility of political struggle, while "Money For Nothing" is also a benchmark of pop hypocrisy. I mean, why "See that little faggot with the earring"? Why not "See that little nigger with the spitcurl"? Mark? And while we're at it, how the hell did you get on MTV? By spelling its name right? B-

>A column that Christgau wrote in the Village Voice following John Lennon's murder on December 8, 1980 drew numerous angry reactions from Voice readers after he quoted his wife Carola Dibbell's remarks on the murder. "Why is it always Bobby Kennedy and John Lennon? Why not Richard Nixon and Paul McCartney?"

Wow. That's really hitting below the belt there.

I stopped listening when he gave Sky Valley a bomb.
It's fine if you don't think it's flawless, that's just my opinion, but a dud?
Fuck off.

Let's face facts. Lennon was a political and cultural icon more than he was a great musician or songwriter. McCartney was the only Beatle who could actually write songs without the other guys to give him a leg up.

Rumours [Reprise, 1977]

Why is this easy-listening rock different from all other easy-listening rock, give or take an ancient harmony or two? Because myths of love lost and found are less invidious (at least in rock and roll) than myths of the road? Because the cute-voiced woman writes and sings the tough lyrics and the husky-voiced woman the vulnerable ones? Because they've got three melodist-vocalists on the job? Because Mick Fleetwood and John McVie learned their rhythm licks playing blues? Because they stuck to this beguiling formula when it barely broken even? Because this album is both more consistent and more eccentric than its blockbuster predecessor? Plus it jumps right out of the speakers at you? Because Otis Spann must be happy for them? Because Peter Green is in heaven? A

>still getting (you)'s forty years later
master level trolling

Once you learn to ignore his poor remarks about your favorite albums, you can truly understand his genius.

Young Blood [Sire, 1995]

If the blood were literally young, he'd be the vampire. Instead, producer/wunderkind Andy Paley plays the ghoul. Jerry Lee can still rock the 88s, but his natural voice is a wheeze or a croak, as exemplified by the final verse on "I'll Never Get Out Of This World Alive" where he stretches out the final syllable down into the pitchless pit. He couldn't get away with "Thirty Nine and a Half" when he was 45, but now he wants to be 18 again? C+

Overrated as fuck. This is a B minus album.

That's just wrong, it was Lennon who wrote all their early hits and inspired everyone else to get their shit together

Frampton Comes Alive! [A&M, 1976]

Alright, Peter, you win. I'll review your stupid album--it's only been in the top 20 all year. Now will you please go away? C+

>we do a lot of coke and cheat on our spouses
Great album.

"Rock Bottom [Caroline, 1974]
I'm at a loss to describe this album of "drones and songs" conceived and recorded after Wyatt's crippling accident except to say that the keyboards that dominate instrumentally are of a piece with his lovely tortured-to-vulnerable quaver and that the mood is that of a paraplegic with the spirit to conceive and record an album of drones and songs. B+"
Brutal

Thousand Roads [Atlantic, 1993]

David Crosby lends new meaning to the term "survivor", meaning "If you can't kill the motherfucker, at least make sure he doesn't breed" and until VH-1 got on the revolting "Heroes" video, I'd hoped never to sample this piece of make-work for his rich, underemployed friends. Oh, well. The only thing that could render it more self-congratulatory would be a cover of Jefferson Black Hole's "We Built This City". C-

ruffi, easy

this is a grade A troll

What movie was Wonderwall in

Soul-Crusher [Caroline, 1987]

The lyric sheet that spruces up this consumer object in spite of itself makes a promise: "From chaos comes reason". Not in the consumer object itself however, an inedible omelette of noise rock distinguished from the competition by droning guitars and drawling vocals. People consent to fascism because they think it will be more fun than this. They could be right. D+

Man, he really blew it on this one. SC has been acclaimed as a noise rock classic by many people, including Iggy Pop and Kurt Cobain.

I think lennon is a faggot but this is just incorrect

Wild Tales [Atlantic, 1974]

The title's as phony as the rest of the album, which despite the bought and paid for goodies--an intro here, a harmony there, even a song somewhere--is mostly a tame collection of reshuffled platitudes. Especially enervating is "Oh, Camille" in which Graham lets us know he is morally superior to a doubt-ridden Vietnam vet. C-

Bio [Chess, 1973]

You know how Willie Mays was one of the greatest baseball players ever, but just can't cut it anymore? I feel the same way about Chuck Berry. D+

Lol savage, get rekt bro xD

Earth [Grunt, 1978]

This is slightly better than Spitfire (not to mention Baron von Tollbooth) and rather worse than Red Octopus (not to mention Crown of Creation). Its only ambitious lyric seems to equate skateboarding with sex with (male) hubris; its expertness conceals neither schlock nor shtick nor strain of ego. It is leading the nation in FM airplay. C

Fuck off cuntgau

Led Zeppelin II [Atlantic, 1969]

The best of the wah-wah mannerist groups--so dirty they drool on demand. It's true that all the songs sound the same, but nobody ever held that against Little Richard. Then again, Robert Plant isn't Little Richard. B

Me Against the World [Interscope, 1995]
Tough-guy sentimentality is an old story in American culture, but self-pity this rank is usually reserved for teen romances and tales of brave avant-gardists callously rejected by the mass media. His I-love-Mom rings true because Mom was no saint, and his respect for old G's seems genuine, probably because they told him how smart he was. But whether the metaphor be dead homies or suicide threat, the subtext of his persecution complex is his self-regard. What's doubly galling is that these are essential hip hop themes--as Ice Cube and B.I.G. have made all too vivid, it is persecution that induces young black men to kill each other and themselves. That such themes should rise to the top of the charts with this witless exponent of famous-for-being-famous is why pop fans decry the mass media. C+

Lesson learned. Nobody ever went broke appealing to the lowest common denominator.

Volunteers [RCA Victor, 1969]

A puzzler: I've listened many times and cannot make contact. Every time Grace lilts out "Up against the wall, motherfuckers" ( a phrase which has long since lost its currency and dubious usefulness) I want to laugh, and I don't find the instrumental cuts very inspired. Everybody else seems to dig it a lot, and of course it's far from bad, but everybody may be wrong. B

Mechanical Animals [Nothing/Interscope, 1998]

If only the absurd aura of artistic respectability surrounding this arrant self-promoter would teach us that not every icon deserves a thinkpiece, that it's no big deal to have an IQ higher than Ozzy Osbourne, and that the road to the Palace Theater leads to excess, the deadpan production being yet one more item with which to flatten willing cerebella and conceal the feebleness of La Manson's vocal affect by pretending it's all intentional. My suspicion is that his banned-in-Wal-Mart slipcase will fade into the haze of records that people found mildly interesting at the time. Catchiest songs--"The Dope Show" and "I Don't Like The Drugs (But The Drugs Like Me)". Duh. C-

Berlin [RCA Victor, 1973]

I read where this song cycle about two drug addicts who fall into sadie-mazie in thrillingly decadent Berlin is a . . . what was that? artistic accomplishment, even if you don't like it much. Well, the category is real enough--it describes a lot of Ornette Coleman and even some Randy Newman, not to mention a whole lot of books--but in this case it happens to be horseshit. The story is lousy--if something similar was coughed up by some avant-garde asshole like, oh, Alfred Chester (arcane reference for all you rock folk who think you're cool cos you read half of Nova Express) everyone would be too bored to puke at it. The music is only competent--even Bob Ezrin can't manufacture a distance between the washed-up characters and their washed-out creator when the creator is actually singing. Also, what is this water-boy business? Is that a Buddhist cop? Gunga Din? Will Lou lick the bloomin' boots of 'im that's got it? C

posting Christgau-core

>all the As he gave to trash late career Sonic Youth records

Hi Infidelity [Epic, 1980]

I'm not saying they deserve the biggest-selling album of their crummy era, but these boys have always known a thing or two about the hook and the readymade. Best song--"Tough Guys", which will never make the radio because it features this inspirational verse--"They think they're full of fire/She thinks they're full of shit". B-

Pretending one's opinion is fact and giving ratings to music is dumb. No one is going to know who he is in a hundred years, but they'll know who Zappa is.

Master of Reality [Warner Bros., 1971]

As an increasingly regretful spearhead of the great Grand Funk Railroad switch three years ago, in which the critics defined Grand Funk as a good ol' white boy blues band, even though I knew of no critics, myself included, who played the records. Grand Funk are American--dull. Black Sabbath are English--dull and decadent. I don't care how many rebels and incipient groovers are buying, I don't even care if the band actually believes their own Christian/liberal/Satanist muck. This is a dimwitted, amoral exploitation. D+

Christgau truly is the proto-numale.

The News of the World [EMI, 1977]

In which the group who last winter gave you a $7.95 LP to boycott devotes one side to the wantonness of woman and the other to the doomed-to-life futile rebelliousness of the poor saps (those saps! you saps!) who buy and listen. C-

This is correct though; Queen are complete garbage.

Hallelujah [Liberty, 1969]

The best Canned Heat lp solely because it contains four (of 11) cuts by Alan Wilson, who has one of the great freak voices and writes songs to match. As usual, it is dominated by Bob "Rastus" Hite, who must have been responsible for Rolling Stone's suggestion that the next Canned Heat album be called "Yassuh Boss." He is most offensive on one of those "introducing the band" jams ("Henry shoah does have the feelin', yeah") and on another exercise in solipsism called "Canned Heat." I am sure I only forgive him his version of Fats Domino's "Big Fat" because I don't happen to know the original. Still, Wilson's talent is too peculiar to fill an album. I wonder what should be done with him. B-

Pornography [A&M, 1982]

"In books/And films/And in life/And in heaven/The sound of slaughter/As your body turns . . ."--no, I can't go on. I mean, why so glum, chum? Cheer up; look on the bright side. You got your contract, right? And your synthesizers, bet you'll have fun with them. Believe me, kid, it will pass. C

stop caring about critics

this tb completely desu

The Runaways [Mercury, 1976]

Don't let yourself be fooled by creative convolutions, misguided notions of feminism, or the idea that good punk rock should transcend ordinary musical ideas. This is Kim Fowley's project, which means that is is tuneless and wooden, as well as exploitative. How on Earth anyone can hang around El Lay this long without copping a lick or two defies imagination. The answer must be sheer perversity, which in of itself makes for the one truly perverse thing about the man. C-

Queens of Noise [Mercury, 1977]

I'll tell you what kind of street rock and roll these bimbos make--when I put on the title track, I thought I was hearing Evita twice, only I couldn't figure out why the singer wasn't in tune. C-

Waiting for the Night [Mercury, 1977]

This band surprised me live--nowhere near as willing to pander sexually as their publicity suggests and Kim Fowley contributes his first decent tune since "Alley Oop". But Joan Jett's inability to bellow through the wall of noise (she shrieks flatly instead) reminds us that there are more generous musical role models for human beings of all sexes than Aerosmith. C+

The Best of the Runaways [Mercury, 1982]

Forget the title--if Kim Fowley knew how to make a decent Runaways album, he would have done it in 1976. C

it's a pleb filter, small wonder you think so lowly of it. Easily one of the top 5 rock albums of the past 50 years

Give it a few years and listen to Sky Valley again. If you've done any growing up, you should find your opinion has shifted such that you'll actually understand Robert's rating, perhaps even agree with it.

Yet he lives and continues his never-ending master work while most of those who wished him dead are now six feet under. Makes you think before trying to take on the 'gau

Everyone's favorite juvenile delinquents show their ragtime-wit again. But at this point, people are beginning to wonder if they'll ever grow up or finally take their humour seriously. C

see:

>master work
ughh

>a neatly-organized, searchable database guiding you through over 60 years of music ranging from jazz to punk to hip-hop, allowing you to easily hear the best music humans have created while avoiding the worst, saving you untold amounts of time and money
what other word/phrase besides master work could you use to convey the importance of his life's mission?

...

...

I do not enjoy Christgau's reviews, but his taste mirrors mine to a ridiculous degree. I love the guy for reaffirming my taste, exclusively.

>what other word/phrase besides master work could you use to convey the importance of his life's mission?
pop culture dreck

this desu, I found this underknown artist and sperg'd out on it for a while and only recently found out Christgau gave most of his albums A's--no other critic has even heard most of his albums much less reviewed them. So I respect him for that if nothing else, but I don't usually like reading his reviews

How is this a review?